


A little fencing never killed nobody

by Lamelodia



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fencing, Frenemies, Missy kicking the Doctor's ass, Non-Graphic Violence, Swordfighting, The Author Regrets Everything, this is so silly I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamelodia/pseuds/Lamelodia
Summary: The Doctor and Missy decide to recreate a scene from their past: a sword fight.Or: these two Time Lords being frenemies.





	A little fencing never killed nobody

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very silly fanfic, i'm very sorry. I apologize for the gramatical mistakes(english is not my native language).

– Please, Doctor. 

– No.

– Please.

– No.

– Pleeease! 

– No!

– We did it once! 

– Yeah, at the time we were trying to kill each other!

– And since when did we ever stop? 

– Missy, I already said no!

This dialogue above always repeated itself when the Doctor payed a visit for Missy in the vault. He always tried to avoid the subject, but Missy batted her eyelash, pouted and started the whine. Over and over.

The Doctor didn’t know if this way only more annoying whim or a truthful desire. Anyway, a sword fight like “the times when I still was able to grow a goatee”, like Missy detailed, was out of question.

Till eventually wasn’t anymore.

Missy began to be more subtle. She asked for medieval books, fencing videos and movies containing swords fights. Although he wondered if her appeal to watch Kill Bill was because of the battles with blades or if she just wanted to see a good amount of blood and butchered members splashing in the screen...

One night, the Doctor caught himself considering her request at his office. Since Missy entered the vault, no meaningful incident has happened. Life trapped in Earth was already very boring; imagine a life trapped in a vault. Missy was really trying to improve, he could notice, although she was still far away from their goal. And besides the fact they were attempting in slaughter each other, the sword fight was really fun and his new life lacked a bit of action.

– When are you gonna change shifts officially? – Nardole asked after he ordered him to bring two cutlasses forged in Cearesian metal.

– What do you mean? – The Doctor spoke.

– You are already giving weapons to her. Next time you will be locked in a vault and she will be sitting in this office. May I keep calling her Ma’am or should I change for “My lady and Mistress”?

– Don’t be dramatic. Just shut up and do what I say.

Nardole left another complaint for the record, but eventually did what the Doctor commanded.

The Vault might be a confinement, but never a dungeon. The Doctor was still struggling between make the place comfortable enough for help Missy on her path and not convert the Quantum Fold Chamber into a spa. At the moment when he enters the vault with a grin on his lips and packages behind his back, the Vault has a few random chairs, armchairs and puffs dispersed along the area. In addition, a bookshelf leans on the wall while a table for meals stands near the fake windows. There is also a kitchen and a bathroom decorated with things that the Doctor couldn’t imagine being used as a weapon – or at least until the Mistress’s creative comes up with an idea.

And, of course, in the centre of the chamber, there was the containment field. On top of the platform, Missy lies above a bed. The hands crossed on her chest and eyes closed was a clearly remake of the scene from the Sleeping Beauty.

– Came to save me from boredom, my prince? – She asks.

– Actually, I brought a gift for you.

She opens his eyes instantly and glances at him.

– Why are your arms behind your back? I don’t recall twisting them.

He throws what appears to be a stick evolved in red velvet. Exhibiting good reflexes, she grabs the thing in the air. 

– What are you up to, man? – She sits before pulls the golden ribbon. The velvet cape fails on the ground to revels a thing Missy desires for a long time. – A sword! – The shinning in his eyes proves to the Doctor that he did the right thing. 

– I’ve been thinking about your petition – the Doctor says, pulling his own blade out of the cape. – And then I asked myself: what the hell not?

The Mistress observes her gift. The cutlass was thin and light enough for her to wield with only one hand. It might not be able to behead or dismember, but was enough to cross through a person body. In fact... looks like a lot with the blade they used at the UNIT’s summer camp.

Her eyes move slowly from the sword to the Doctor. A wicked smirk reveals her intentions.

– Are you feeling a little suicidal today, my love? – She lifts from the mattress. – Only a fool arms his archenemy. 

– Oh Missy, I’m sorry to thwart your dreams at killing me. You see, they are from Ceares. This blade material is not sharp enough to scratch a Time Lord skin, as much as we attempt.

– Oh, that’s such a pity – she pouts. – Next time, maybe...

Her feet move to get down the stairs of the containment field. Her eyes are locked with the Doctor’s. 

– Rule – it was better talking while the rushes hormones still hasn’t took over – if it’s done for any of us, just ask for surrender and we will stop just in time. 

– Then better keep this word on your mind, my dear Doctor. You will be saying it soon– she teases.

Their tension was so thick that could be cut with a knife. The Doctor takes two steps to the left when she reaches the same ground he does. They do not dare to take up the swords yet, holding them sided to their body. Prowling themselves as birds of prey, the duo never tears their glance away from each other. 

– What made you change your mind? – Missy broke the silence. –Was my charming blue eyes? 

– A man needs some action in his life – he shrugs.

She smiles. The Doctor sees the chance and wields the sword, striking the Missy’s arm that is holding the blade. She is fast enough, however, and raises the arm. Only the torn fabric of her blouse showed the blade indicates the first lunge of the duel. 

– Seriously? – She looks annoyed at his rival, showing the fissure in her sleeve – You know I don’t have many clothes here, don’t you? 

– I never said that the metal didn’t cut fabric – he feels the necessity to add.

In a mute truce, they spike the swords in a green puff. The Doctor takes his coat and throws carelessly at an armchair. Patiently, he waits for Missy unbuttons her blouse. Faithfull to the Victorian-style, she reveals a satin chemise and white corset underneath.

Like their minds worked as one, they take one step forward at once and pull the swords. Foam flakes from the puff fail in their heads while they finally wield their cutlass.

– Tell me, Doctor – more like a tease than assault, Missy touches her knife with the Doctor’s. As if they had the same polarity, the blade repels each other. – Have you been practicing?

– Just a couple of times, yes – he didn’t want to admit that he trained with a broom cable for a whole week.

He made several attempts to pound at her body: shoulders, hips and legs. The blades ringed when she blocked the contact. 

– Not bad – he approves sincerely.

He doesn’t recall such agility. Was his memory was fading or this skill was a characteristic of this incarnation? 

– Thank you – she smiles. The swords scream their metallic song while he assaults once more.

Shit, the Doctor wonders. She was really fast which means he needs to change his strategy. 

– You never told me why the Mary Poppins style, my old chap – he says the first shit that comes to his mind to buy more time.

They walk in circles once more. Missy hasn’t made a strike yet. She has a good knowledge of her resistance; once she fought for two hours in high heels. The Doctor has no vitality to beat her. 

– Oh you know, my dear Doctor. The dangerous daggers are the hidden ones. Who would consider that a sweet Victorian lady could be so spiteful? –She attempts to pound at his belly. Caught by surprise, the Doctor jumps backwards.

One more attempt at his legs. Two more at his hips. Their feet dance along the blades. The Doctor continues to defend himself. Missy spins like a ballerina and moves the swords direct at the Doctor’s neck. The metallic orchestra roars when the Doctor blocks her overhead strike. The swords are locked. Angry groans fill the environments while they struggle to push each other. The Doctor is the one whom get it. She takes two steps back and stumbles on the containment field rungs, but doesn’t fall. 

– Even you felt easily. – she passes the free hand on her forehead to clean the sweat – From all my disguises, the kisser android one was the best.

– Agreed – oh, he really doesn’t wanna remember that moment. Knowing she will easily deflect, the Doctor advances just to keep her mouth shut.

They climb up the stairs in the clash of swords. Up, down, back, forward, left right. Missy easily blocks any thrust like a professional. It’s starting to annoy him. 

–I was wondering. Just between us fellows, – she reaches the platform – was your first kiss in those lips? 

– What?! – The question makes him lower the guard. Missy takes advantage and swings the sword aiming on the shoulder. The Doctor gets down sooner enough, however Missy cuts a lock of his hair. Gosh, Nardole will notice it. – No! 

– Liar – she hides behind the thin column. – You didn’t even know how to use your tongue.

The Doctor’s face is crimson with the effort and the embarrassment. His blade swipes from left to right, just founding metal instead of flesh. Missy goes to one side to another, teasing him. 

– I bet you got over this phase, – they are at the same floor level now – but is this body still virgin? 

– Shut up! – He attempts to strike clumsily her chest. She blocks the attack.

– Hum – she bites her lip. – So did you never took a bitch and made her or him moans your name?

The Doctor lunges at her belly. She jumps aside. 

– I really can believe how you can be so frigid – she mocks. His hearts pounds as a drum. He lunges one more time, hitting the bedside instead of her shoulder.– That’s why dear Clara left you.

He shouts in anger. Nothing looks more like music for her than this sound. 

– I should have given her a pity shag – he strikes so hard that she almost plunge at the floor after blocking it. Heartbeats blow his chest. – At my best mercy. 

The Doctor lunges. Missy dodges so easily that makes her laugh before kicking the Doctor’s hand with the knee. Rather than gather his hand, he ignores the pain and jumps over her, making them both fall on the mattress. She let the sword slip from her hand. The metal beat shows it rolled downstairs. The Doctor grabs his own blade and shoves against his rival’s throat. Missy tries to move the knife to the opposite direction.

– Tired of the five against one, just for change? – Her choked voice is his incentive to pushes further. 

– Surrender – drops of sweat falls on her sight. – Surrender now.

– One tip: grab the bitch by the hair and make this tongue work.

She catches a good amount of his hair. The Doctor knows he is stronger than her, so he doesn’t care if she attempts to pull off her. What he doesn’t expect is the push of his face towards hers and the seal of their lips in one another. The hold on the blade is loosening. The Doctor gasps for air, instinctively opening his mouth. Missy harnesses the act and sliding her tongue on her enemy’s mouth, surprisingly gently. While the Doctor’s body freezes, his mind shakes for understanding the scene.

Finally, he wakes up from the numbness. 

– What the hell?! – The Time Lords shouts. He leans backwards, lifting off her but still bent over. Missy gives one of her wicked giggles. 

And only then the Doctor realizes is too late. Missy bent his knees and kicks the Doctor’s chest. He flies over the platform directly at the stairs and scrolls until the floor.

–Low blow – he moans, facing the floor. The Doctor turns, trying not to screw more part of his body. For his luck, the sword is still attached on his hand. I should have given a fucking pony instead, he mourns to himself.

– Life is unfair – Missy arises from his view. The smile didn’t fade. – Try harder.

Alright, alright; the Doctor wonders. I know how to deal with you.

Angry would lead him to nothing, bravery would lead him to mockery and eagerness would lead him to failure. All he had was patience.

His opponent advances in a fast pace. The Doctor doesn’t move a finger. Pretty low, pretty low. Her march hits closer and closer. His blood rushes on his ear, urging him to attack. Not now.

Missy is now standing on his side. She looks at her prize proudly, touching the motionless body with her boot.

– Surrender? – To finish with a flourish, she grabs the cutlass with both hands and rises above her head. The pointy end aims the Doctor’s chest.

The Doctor rolls on his side and propels his body to stand. The look on Missy’s face shows her confusion. The Doctor is the one who is smiling now. He swipes his foe with the elbow. Missy leans backwards, crying in pain. She dodges from a purposeful weak sword movement aimed on her back and steps aside.

–You know, Missy? For a second I though you would win.

She spins around to face him. 

– Finally you joined in the game.

The blades thunders again. Nothing matters now. 

– I admit, Missy. – The Doctor avoids a stab on his neck. – You are really good.

A feral glare appears on her eyes. 

– Flattery won’t save you, my dear. 

More strikes .Keep retreating.

– But I mean it.

She swipes at his chest. The Doctor is not fast enough and she rips his shirt. Let her come and take, but not conquer. 

– This is the only way you can win over me – he responds and she advances.

She giggles loud. Rise to the bait.

– And what makes you think – she lunges in diagonal. The Doctor jumps to the left and she strikes the arm of the armchair – this is the only way?

Almost ready. 

– You know – he manages to shrug even when he is using the elbow to raise the sword – the way you keep coming to me and always losing. – He pushes her with the sword. – Over and over along the centuries.

Missy back off, glancing at him with fury in her eyes. C’mon, girl. Rise to the bait.

– Bullshit – she takes a lock of hair out of her face. She is far enough to the Doctor make another strike. Just like he planned. – I always break you.

– Maybe – he flicks the tongue – but you never understand while you keep falling? Let me make easier to understand: When did you manage to steal my regenerations? Or conquer  
the universe? Oh, I recall: never.

Wildness was on her eyes. Wait. 

– I might kill you now. How about that, sweetheart? – The venom on her words almost drains out of her mouth. 

– With what? This blade can’t make a scratch on me – he chuckles. – You need to recognize, my dear fellow: you are incompetent at everything you do.  
Her eyes widen so much that the Doctor fears they will fall from the orbit. 

– What did you say? 

Vesuvius began to erupt...

– Don’t pretend you didn’t hear it– the Doctor is the one who gives a wicked smile now. – The truth is: you can call yourself Master, you can wreak havoc, you may produce how much sorrow and misery you want. In the end, you will always crawl yourself in your TARDIS and hide like that flimsy boy I knew at the Academy. Because, and don’t try to deny, this is what you are: a weak pathetic fragile boy who seeks me because I am the only person that can bear you mediocrity. 

... And Pompeii is on fire.

The shout was loud enough to make Death shivers. Mistaking the fencing with a joust, she pointed the sword and run into the Doctor’s direction in such a remarkable speed. The other foe barely succeeds in dodges from it, realizing the risk only in the final moment. 

To his luck, Missy can’t brake and crushes into the bookcase. The Doctor grins when he sees that the blade embedded on the thick wood. His smiles endure until a big thick book smashes his face. The Doctor tumbles on the ground. His sword bounces on the ground and rolls. The pressure on his sight is still sensed, but that doesn’t matter now because  
Missy pulled out her own sword from the shelter and is coming for him.

His only option is take the book. Oh Gods, the titles says “Anger Management for Dummies”. Using as a shield would be a silly decision, so he throws it at his opponent. Missy is get hit on the hip. The strike is hard enough for Missy feels the impact and stops.

The Vault is twisting for the Doctor. He kneels to gain some sort of stability. In his hazy sight, he sees a cutlass aimed direct to his chest. The Doctor grabs the blade with both hands while Missy pushes in all her fury. The four hearts beats like one. Groans are the only sounds heard. The sweat of his hands makes him slip a little, but he still is stronger than Missy. Having vantage, he stands up. Missy pushes harder, full force on that lunge.

The hold on the blades keeps getting harder every few seconds that passed. Balance and dizziness don’t go well. He takes steps back until feels the cold surface of the wall. Well, nobody could say I didn’t have a plan, he thinks. To his misfortune, the plan worked and worked too well. He tried to get her so mad that her reason would disappears and the only thing she would get left was aimless anger. He didn’t know she would be that pissed, though. He needs a new scheme or she might use the creative to transform that harmless cutlass into a deadly one.

– Missy – he tries to exhibit the best smile someone could make while avoids being stabbed –you know this is not for real, hum?

She seems to focus on her rage to listen him. Plan B, then. 

The Doctor swallows in his dry throat. He crouches slightly, hoping he would last long before slipping over the wall and dropping. Missy keeps pushing. The Doctor keeps holding. The dispute last one minute more in earthling time, but an eternity for the duo until a crack takes them away from their daze. They tear the eyes away from each other and look at  
the sword. The metallic leagues broke like a toothpick and there goes Missy’s sword. 

Missy tips over the Doctor with the force lost. She grabs the Doctor’s shoulder, not for another swipe, but for balance. He holds her arms lightly by a matter of instinct, not pushing her away. Her heavy breath on his chest looked like a sunny Monday after a storm. They feel their hearts pounding against one another. Ironically, the foes are an anchor for one another. 

At least until they settle their minds.

Their eyes move together for the Mistress’s hand. The sword in her hand turned into a broken dagger. The eyes are on the Doctor’s hand now. He grips a cutlass without a cable.  
Synchronized, their heads turn slowly to the same spot. One intact sword sparkles at the lights of the vault. The heads back to their original position. Slowly, their glances meet each other.

And then the storm comes back.

The adversaries ungracefully hurry to the sword. Missy quickly takes the leadership. 

– No! – The Doctor yells and leaps over her.

They both fall in a mess of arms, legs and moans of pain. The Doctor hugs Missy’s legs. The broken cutlass was still on his hand; nonetheless Missy already dropped her part. She crawls for the sword like a worm, while the Doctor keeps his grasp firmly. Her rival now tries to climbs over her. He loosens the grip for this movement. Missy wastes no time and kicks the Doctor in the head. The Doctor feels the impact and let her go, but at least he manages to hit her head with the metal. Too late to grab that sword; she already have it on her hand.

He hits her chest with the broken blade. She roars like an animal, however she stands. Still feeling the strike on her head, her feet dances like if she were drunken. The Doctor seizes the opportunity and sits in an awkward manner. He barely recovers when a swipe is lunge over his head. He blocks it with the broken sword.  
She didn’t have the same pace like in the beginning, but he knows he needs to stand and get the sword from her as soon as possible. However, something like lift himself sounds impossible. The Doctor began to crawl, more like does little jumps, away from her. 

Missy hits his hand. The chock and the sweat make him dump it. He is now completed helpless.

The wicked smile is back on her face. She touches his neck with the sword and then she changes her mind. 

– You. Are. So. Dead! – For each word, she makes a cut on his sweat shirt. The Doctor gazes at his chest and sees she made a letter M on his chest. – Any last world, my dear  
Doctor?

Her excitement blinded her for one important thing: the Doctor’s hand touching at the cable part of the broken sword. 

– Honestly, my old chap? – He grips the cable firmly. – You have been watching too much Zorro.

He still had one last plan. Making all the effort he got left, he attaches his legs and slides over Missy’s legs. With a last shout, she crashes on the ground.

Before she could understand what is going on, the Doctor is on top of her. Her arms and legs are trapped between his body and the floor. The tip of the broken cutlass is pressing the most vulnerable spot of a Time Lord: the junction between the chin and the neck.

– And you didn’t get the right words – he hiss, desperate to end this madness. – Surrender?

He wouldn’t see that annoying wicked smile for a long time.

– Whatever, honey – she gulps.

The Doctor collapses besides her. 

The sounds of heavy breaths and fast heartbeats fulfil the vault. Now that the rush hormones are fading, the ache is taking place of the excitement. The Doctor didn’t believe he could crawl away from the vault, imagine walk to the classroom. Missy is wrecked too. Her back and chest hurts so much that she doesn’t know how she would sleep for the next days. 

– When I agree to your folly request, I thought it would stay classy –the Doctor says, more to himself than to Missy. – This was a stupidity. A brutality. People will think I was robbed. Everything will hurt for days and because of what? Oh, because of a ridiculous game! What I had in mind? Violence only leads to violence.

Missy make sure he finished his lecture before speak. 

– So... Same time next week?

The Doctor stays quiet for a while.

– Yes – Oh, who he was trying to cheat? He hadn’t some much fun in decades! We would make sure to adjust a few thinks, like include a set of rules and get rid of thick books before they started. Maybe armours would be good too.

She raises her hand. The Doctor slaps it. Just one last act before calling Nardole to get down and scream over them while taking care of their wounds but... Oh, yeah his laser screwdrive was on his coat and the coat was meters away. He might have stay there for a while before getting the courage to move. 

– By the way, what about the pony? 

– No. 

– Ok, then – she shrugs, learning soon that this movement produces more pain.

They both look at the celling. By this time, they don’t recall the two enemies in an UNIT’s prison fencing, but two friends in Gallifrey looking upon the sky.


End file.
